


In the Day of Shy Midnight

by LydiaOLydia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, First Time, Fluff, Not Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, Not Pottermore Compliant, Romione-centric, Ronmione forever, Sharing a Bed, Some adult language, Sorry Not Sorry, apparently I'm on a roll, lots of Weasley family feels, post Deathly Hollows, there is some kid named Harry Potter in there somewhere, tropey goodness, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-11-29 02:52:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11431644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LydiaOLydia/pseuds/LydiaOLydia
Summary: Ron and Hermione, before and after Deathly Hollows.





	In the Day of Shy Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this after seeing "Deathly Hollows" in the theater and having all these feels about the Weasley family. I was never going to publish it (b/c it's not exactly like the world needs more Ron/Hermione fanfiction), but I'm really proud of (some of) it, so I figured 'what the heck.'
> 
> Fair warning, I didn't even try to make it compliant with Pottermore and Harry Potter and the Cursed Child.
> 
> Also, I'm an American. I didn't attempt British spelling but I did try to stay away from obvious Americanisms, if I made any glaring mistakes please feel free to let me know.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> condoms, charms, and conversations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this years ago after feeling nostalgic for the Weasleys, especially Fred and George.
> 
> Fluffy, tropey. You've been warned.

"It's not like that, Mum." Hermione sighed. Why did she have to have this conversation with her mother every summer? Well, every summer she went to the Burrow.

Her mother cleared her throat. "I don't mind your two best friends are boys. I even don't mind you spend your summer with them. But, dear, I wasn't born yesterday. Teenage boys are teenage boys. Even when they're wizards. I just want you to be careful."  She pressed the box of condoms into Hermione's hands.

Hermione put the box down and sighed, mentally preparing herself to lecture her mother. Again.

Her mother held up a hand to stop the onslaught of words.

' "Do witches and wizards even know about birth control? How many children do the Weasleys have anyways?"

Hermione could answer this question however she wanted. Her mother's memory would be wiped soon. But Hermione felt compelled to be honest.

"The Weasleys have seven and yes, Mum, they do have their own ways of birth control." She hadn't been able to find out much about them, even by sneaking into the restricted section. Not that she was curious. Well, she wasn't that curious. It was all theoretical. Knowledge was a good thing, wasn't it?

Her mother made a tsking noise. "They can't be terribly reliable methods if they have seven children."

**

Afterwards, when she was sure the spell had worked, she stepped into the garden. All her things were packed and hidden behind a rosebush, ready to go.  Everything felt so ordinary.  Breeze blowing across her cheeks, trees in full leaf of summer.  Mrs. Pratchett's Yorkie across the street yipping at the postman.  Usually by now she was filled with giddy excitement at the idea of seeing Ron and Harry again.  And she was.  But there was an ache that wouldn't go away this time.

She knew she was doing the right thing. Monica and Wendell Wilkins wouldn't have a thing to worry about. They had dreamed of moving to Australia. Now they were finally living their dream. They didn't have a daughter who was about to walk into a war. They didn't have a daughter at all. Voldemort would never find them. She was sure of that and it was worth it. Even if it did feel like ripping her heart from her chest.

So, time for a quick peek into her luggage to triple check she hadn't missed anything. Books, toothbrush, pajamas. Something nice to wear for the wedding. Wait what was this? Her mother had tucked in one condom with a little sticky note. _Just in case. Love, Mum_. Then some XXs and OOOs.

She swiped at her eyes. Silly to cry, really. It was Mum being Mum. Dad always teased them both that there wasn't anything in life they wouldn't prepare for. She automatically reached for the condom to toss it in the nearest bin. Instead she folded the note neatly into Hogwarts: A History and put the condom in her bag. She zipped it up again, trying not to overthink it. Hermione's cheeks burned. It was silly. They were off to fight a war. Still, there was no harm in a little optimism, was there?

**

Ron had played the scenario out in his head of how he would greet Hermione this summer. She would step out of the fireplace. He would be right there waiting. She'd have the slightest bit of soot on her face. He would brush it off with his thumb. She'd give him her biggest smile, the smile he had privately nicknamed "the Bookshop Smile. "

But that wasn't what happened at all. He woke up after ten (because he wasn't at school now, thank you. He didn't need to get up at sparrow fart anymore) to find she'd come and gone already. Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches didn't cover what to do when you'd been a complete arse and slept in.

"Just missed her. Doing wedding things with Mum," Charlie said. "If you're smart, you'll make yourself scarce. Bill's already been put to work." And with that warning, he ducked out, whistling a tune that sounded suspiciously like Celestina Warbeck.

Ron was about to crawl back to bed when he noticed Hermione had left her handbag hanging on a kitchen chair. It was small and plain brown leather and so comfortingly. . . her. Leaving it out in the open where anyone could peek in? He shook his head. It would take an only child to make such a stupid mistake. He smiled fondly and picked it up to take it to Ginny's room, but when he turned he bumped into a red-headed wall. No, two walls. _Bollocks_.

Fred laughed. "Not really your color, darling."

Ron tried to duck around them but George was too quick. He grabbed it and tossed to Fred, who quickly stepped out of reach. For Beaters, they were agile.

Fred played with the zip. "Right then, let's have a look."

"Get out of her hand bag," Ron said. But he knew protesting would only make them more ruthless.

"We're doing this for your own good, you know,"  Fred tossed out a handkerchief onto the floor.

"When you fancy a girl, one of the best ways to figure her out is to snoop through her things," George said this as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I.Don't.Fancy.Hermione." Ron said through gritted teeth. He did fancy Hermione, but he wasn't stupid enough to admit it to these two.

Fred didn't even look up from his rummaging. "Pull the other one, it's got bells on.  Jackpot!" He held up a little foil packet and tossed it to George. Both crowed.

"So Granger isn't locked at the knees. Interesting." George tapped the packet on the old pine table. A crafty grin overtook his face. "This is very promising for our little Ronnikins."

The twins exchanged a meaningful glance and nodded.

"Because she had gum in her purse?" Ron said, realizing it was the wrong thing to say as soon as the twins burst into laughter.

"It's a condom, you great git." Fred said this as if he as really thick.

"Oh." Ron leaned on the china cabinet, trying to look worldy and sophisticated. The 1974 Quidditch World Cup commemorative plates rattled and he quickly straightened up again. He wished for about the billionth time Harry was here already. Harry would know what a condom was and would be able to explain it without making Ron feel stupid. Well, stupider. He'd even take Percy's help right about now. That was saying something. 

Fred and George shook their heads.

"Poor Granger is never going to get off at this rate. Reckon one of us should have a go?" Fred said.

"Bit swotty for my taste, but not bad now she's actually grown a pair of ti -" 

Ron hurled a dirty tea cup, but George caught it one-handed.

"Try to be decent for once in your sodding lives and explain what the hell it is." Ron's could feel his skin burning, he was blushing so hard.

George put down the tea cup and the condom. "Look we have Contraception Charms so people can," he made a rude gesture, "without making a baby. You know that much?"  This was said with exaggerated patience.

Ron would have thrown something, but he was all out tea cups. Mum would go mad if they broke a plate. "I got the same speech from Dad that you did, so don't act like the fucking know it all."

"Do you want our help or not?" Fred asked.

"Okay. . . yes." Ron had a horrible sinking feeling he'd never hear the end of this, so he might as well dive in all the way.

"It's the Muggle equivalent of a Contraception Charm. It's the sort of thing a girl tucks in her purse when she's hoping to pull," George said. 

"What would Hermione be doing with something like in her purse?"

Fred and George gave him looks of disbelief.

"Oh."

"Oh, is right."  George rolled his eyes.

Ron felt his heart speed up a little bit at the thought.

"What does she do? Wave it about?" He was trying to recollect how the Contraception Charm went. His father had taught it to him after a particularly embarrassing incident in the shower. He's stopped practicing them ages ago. What was the point? It got too depressing after a while. Lavender swore she knew the spell backwards and forwards not that things ever went that far. Not quite, anways.

"She doesn't do anything. The man, in this case that would be you, believe it or not, would wear it," Fred said.

"Where?"  Ron was getting more and more confused by this conversation.

On your willy," Fred waggled his eyebrows meaningfully.

"But it's a tiny little thing."

"So's your willy." Fred and George sang out in a chorus.

Fred bit down hard on his lip. Ron could tell he was trying really hard not to laugh. "Look it stretches, okay? And then it fits over snug."

"But doesn't it cut off your circulation?" Ron was scandalized at the thought.

"Nah. Mind it feels a bit odd. But Muggle-born girls tend to insist on it," George said.

Fred searched through the hand bag again and clucked.  "Mind you, she's only got one here.  You need one for each time, so she must expect you to be rubbish."

God, he probably would be rubbish. It made him a little sick to his stomach to think about it.

Of course he had thought about shagging Hermione. He was a boy. He thought about shagging almost every girl he knew. But when he was dating Lavender, he still thought about shagging Hermione. What's worse is he didn't think about just shagging her. He missed talking to her. He missed the way she'd nag him about putting too much jam on his toast in the morning and then steal a bite. He missed the way she would stand on her tiptoes and smooth over the collar of his robe and straighten his school tie. On those mornings, her hair would tickle at his ear and the smell of her skin would make him feel dizzy. Yeah, he particularly missed that.

"Put it back," Ron said. 

George held up the condom. "Make me."

Ron might have been the youngest Weasley boy, but it meant he was used to having to fight and fight dirty to get what he wanted. He had to taken the twins on before and won, well, come close anyways. Plus, some time this summer he managed to put some real muscle in his arms. He had almost pinned down George when the door opened and -

"All right, chaps. What's going on here? You're making quite the racket. Am I going to have send in your mother?" Their father had spoken in his usual mild tones, but he managed to say the most terrifying thing ever. In an instant, all three boys were all frozen in mute horror. Then there was a mad scramble to tidy up. Ron eased off of George and they jumped apart.  Fred picked up some tea cups and smoothed the table cloth, just to be on the safe side.

"Blowing off some steam, Dad. That's all." Ron said, still glaring at his brothers.

"Good. Your mum doesn't want any trouble before Bill and Fleur's big day." Dad bent down to examine something on the floor. "I say, is that a condom? I've always wanted to see one of those. How on earth did that get here?"

***

Hermione was unpacking her things after morning errands with Fleur. She felt a nagging sort of worry hovering over her because she hadn't seen Ron today. He was probably lazing about as usual. Didn't he know they had a lot to talk about before Harry got here? She should find him, but there was some petty corner of her heart that wanted him to look for her first. She had been busy with wedding errands all morning and she could do with a rest. 

She trailed her fingers over the silky formal dress she'd picked for the wedding. Maybe when Ron saw her in it, he would. . .

She shook her head impatiently. There were more important things to think about. She was settling down to read Secrets of the Darkest Art for the hundredth time, hoping for a clue to Voldemort's plans. The window was propped open, so she could hear the drone the of the bees in the Flutterby bushes. Someone was baking biscuits and the sweet scent kept wafting upwards. She felt deliciously warm and cozy in Ginny's spare bed. Her eyelids were about to slide closed when she heard a knock on the door.  

"What! Yes, come in," she sat up, slipping her bookmark into the book. 

Mrs. Weasley stood at the door, something small and shiny in her hand.  "Dear, I believe this is yours."

Hermione had read many novels where someone's "blood ran cold" but she never had believed it could happen. Not until now. She opened her mouth, but all that came out was a small embarrassed squeak.

Mrs. Weasley settled down on the bed beside her and patted her hand. "Hermione dear, it's time we had a little talk. Now I know you have your own ways, but my understanding is none of the Muggle methods are 100 percent reliable."

"Mrs. Weasley, about the condom. It's not exactly what you think."

"There's no need to be embarrassed, dear. My children didn't come by owl, you know." There was a little twinkle in her eye. "You're one of us now. You should these things. Or shall I have Professor McGongall do the honors back at Hogwarts?"

"I think I'm too young." She mumbled down at the floor. She wasn't going to admit to Mrs. Weasley she had been wondering about it quite a lot lately. Wasn't that the whole point of bringing the condom in the first place?

" Arthur and I weren't much older than you and . . ." Mrs.Weasley let her words trail off. "Besides, what is is your Girl Guides say? Be prepared."

Mrs. Weasley made her go through the spell a few times. She had never had such a difficult time learning a spell, but she never imagined having to learn this one from Ron's mother. The only one worse to perform it in front of would be, well, Ron. Her cheeks burned a little bit at the thought.

"Now either a man or woman can do the spell, it doesn't matter. But I find the man gets a little distracted so it's best to be prepared. And my mother told me if you're too embarrassed to do the spell in front of a boy, then you're not ready yet." She rested a comforting hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Something to keep in mind for another day."

Thank Merlin, Mrs. Weasley left shortly after that. Hermione tried to settle back into her book, but she couldn't. Her wand sat on the wash basin, gleaming in the afternoon sunlight. Oh, she was being ridiculous, but it was always good to practice a new spell, wasn't it? 

" _Amiere. Amiere_." Hermione muttered, trying to get the wrist flick right. How could this be so difficult when it just 'household magic'? Besides, if she was here by herself, what exactly was supposed to happen?

The door creaked open.  Hermione slammed her hands down in her lap.

Not fast enough. At least it was just Ginny. She raised her eyebrows meaningfully. The girl missed nothing.

"Mum teach you the Contraception Charm?"

She'd been caught out. "Yes."

"The condom was for Ron?" Ginny said this with complete disgust. Of course all the Weasleys knew now. Was there no such thing as a secret in this house?

"Well. . . yes?" Hermione said, wanting to run and hide.

Ginny frowned. "I was hoping you had some really fit Muggle boyfriend as a date for the wedding and Ron was going to be wildly jealous. "

Hermione laughed. "No." 

"You could have asked me and avoided this whole mess. I've done it often enough," Ginny said.  Then she quickly glanced at the wall, realizing she'd said too much.

"Oh, I see," Hermione said, digesting that piece of information. Was she the last virgin witch in all England? In the whole United Kingdom, even. She shouldn't care. She didn't care and yet. . .

Ginny turned back, ears pink, but determined to continue the conversation. "Look, he's my brother. I think he's complete wanker, but you obviously love each other."

"I'm not sure it's the right time," Hermione said feeling a bit faint and wondering if this was better or worse than talking to Mrs. Weasley.

Ginny shrugged. "There is no right time or right place. If Mum taught you the spell, you obviously have her blessing. She wasn't too keen when I asked her to teach me how to do it, believe me."

"I'm not sure if we're ready."

"Ron's a teenage boy. He's always ready." Ginny closed her eyes, shuddered. "Believe me. I know way too much about my brothers. "

"I'm not sure if I'm ready," Hermione said faintly. "There's so much going on. Important things."

Ginny stared at the duvet, as if the secrets of the universe were there. It reminded Hermione of Ron staring at a chessboard so much she wanted to laugh. Then Ginny looked up and nodded, as if she had decided something important.

"If you're not ready, you're not ready. It's a big step, but Hermione," Ginny paused to squeeze her hand, "sometimes you can't think your way through something. You have to do what feels right."


End file.
